


Revenant

by ShilohPhoenix



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Pacific Rim (2013) RPF
Genre: Angsty Stuff, Fluff, Ghost!Hermann, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Other, Sad Backstory, Shameless AU, Slow Build, alcohol use, canon divergence - age differences, canon divergence - birthdates and stuff, canon divergence - character ages, except said character is already dead, major character is ghost, probably gonna be violence later, so like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShilohPhoenix/pseuds/ShilohPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an ill-advised trip to a 'haunted' house, Newt comes into contact with a spirit that only he can see. Out of curiosity (and possible stupidity), he makes repeat visits to the house, eventually deciding he's going to help the spirit learn about his (relatively) recent past. He learns more than he ever could have bargained for. Knowledge is power, or, perhaps, in this case, danger. CURRENTLY ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghosts in the Halls

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse this chapter in general -- I haven't written in almost a full decade, so my skills are a bit rusty. I promise, they will improve with time (I hope). This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. Also I would like to note that the gang is in the general age ranges of 17 to 20, Newt being the youngest and the Kaidonovsky's the oldest. I will try to keep this thing updated regularly, but at the moment I'm in the middle of moving so it may be hectic at first. Just bear with me! This chapter is a bit short -- don't expect them all to be this length. Chapter title from Building a Mystery by Sarah Mclachlan.

“If you had to choose between being the first human being to land on mars and making out with Beyonce, which would you go for?”

 

There was a collective groan as Tendo Choi popped off his latest question, interrupting the laziness that had settled over his friends. The only one to rise to the bait was Newt. “Depends. Is there any chance I'd get to bang her too?” He raised his head from where he was draped over Sasha and Aleksis' legs.

 

Tendo got a thoughtful look on his face, before nodding. “Sure, why not?” He shrugged, and Newt merely gave him a noncommittal finger-wave. Once his hand dropped, oppressive silence took over the room once more.

 

“Let's all just admit we're bored as fuck, yeah?” Chuck Hansen asked, voice muffled by the magazine propped open on his face. He was sprawled completely over his father's chaise lounge, boots still on and shirt off. Raleigh reached up and snagged the magazine from his spot next to the lounge, earning an indignant noise from Chuck. “Give it back, _Raleigh_.” He said, voice lacking it's usual bite. Raleigh ignored him in favor of flipping through the glossy pages.

 

Sasha, who had been remarkably quiet the entire evening, let out a gruff sound of amusement. “Move, Boy Wonder. I'm getting drink.” She nudged Newton off of her legs so that he was stuck leaning halfway on Aleksis and half on the couch; he let out a whine for the pure sake of complaining, but she ignored him.

 

Aleksis took this opportunity to sit up straighter. “I have idea.” He said, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. The others in the room looked at him in cautious interest.

 

Newt kicked his feet in half-hearted excitement; Aleksis's ideas were always fun. “Yeah?” He pressed, causing Aleksis to look down at him.

 

“Yeah. Outside of city there is house rumored to be haunted. We could go and, ah, check it out?” He rose his eyebrows and lowered them once, earning a snort from Newt. There was a murmur of interest, but Raleigh looked unsure.

 

“I don't know, man. I'm not superstitious or anything, but isn't that just... I don't know, askin' for trouble?” He asked, and Tendo made a noise of agreement from the arm of the couch. Newt, however, had sat bolt upright, grabbing onto Tendo and Aleksis to steady himself in the Russian guy's lap.

 

“Wait, guys! It could be fun! Come on, can you think of anything better to do? Besides, we might find something cool!” He rolled off of Aleksis and stood upright, stretching his arms up into the air.

 

Sasha chose that moment to return, carrying a can of soda for herself in one hand, and one for Aleksis in the other. “You told them, didn't you?” she asked, shooting an unamused look at her Fiance. Aleksis shrugged in a way that made it pretty obvious he'd done just that. “I told him, _not_ to--” She started, only to be interrupted by Newt, who'd switched straight into fourth gear.

 

“We gotta go!” He declared, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Might as well. He's not gonna shut up about it.” He said, gesturing to Newt and grabbing his shirt off the back of the lounge. He gave a light smack to the side of Raleigh's head. “Move your ass, Beckett.” He said, earning a glower from the boy below him.

 

“Make me.”

 

“Get a room.” Newt quipped, rolling his eyes. “We goin' or not?” He asked, inching towards the front door. Chuck had maneuvered around Raleigh and was pulling on his shirt. Tendo stood as well, even though he looked less than happy about it.

 

“Fine. I'll go. But the minute something weird happens, I'm out.” He groused, earning a winning smile from both Aleksis and Newt.

 

“Same.” Raleigh agreed, grabbing onto the arm of the lounge and hauling himself up. “You coming, Sasha?” He asked, eying her with curiosity.

 

Sasha shook her head. “No. I'm going to visit Mako. Can you drop Aleksis off at home?” She directed the question to Chuck, who nodded. This seemed to satisfy her, and she grabbed her keys off of the coffee table. “See you boys later.” She said, voice loud as she wove around Newt and Chuck to get out the front door. Once she was gone, Raleigh sighed.

 

“It's a shame Mako had to get sick right before break.” He voiced, muttering under his breath about how _she'd_ be able to talk them out of this insane plan to infiltrate a 'haunted' house. The dark mutterings only earned him a loud laugh from Aleksis, who clapped a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Do not worry, Lover Boy. Nothing will happen while I am there.” He sounded oddly sure of himself, but this didn't do anything at all to put Raleigh at ease.

 

 

* * *

 

 

About an hour and a six pack of beer later, all five boys stood outside of the house, silently waiting for one among them to make the first move. The autumn air seemed colder, a strong wind kicking up leaves and debris from the yard. It'd obviously seen a few visitors prior to them, but it wasn't nearly as vandalized as it probably should've been. None of them were sure how long it'd been abandoned, but it was long enough that there should have been graffiti, more broken windows, _something_...

 

It loomed ahead of them, dark and foreboding; it was a three-story home, easily a century old if not more. Trash lingered throughout the yard, and a couple of the windows were broken through, but other than that (and the overgrowth of grass and plants) there were no other signs that it'd been abandoned for very long. But honestly, it'd been there for as long as any of them could remember. They had all seen it at least once before, on trips out of the city, but they'd never paid much mind to it. It was like a billboard or something; just a part of the scenery.

 

“Alright. Everyone have flashlights?” Aleksis asked, clicking his on. The others followed suit, Raleigh having to smack his a few times before the pale beam flickered on. This seemed to appease the Russian man, who nodded in approval. “Alright! We split up. Tendo with me. Raleigh, Chuck, and Boy Wonder all together. Sound good?” He asked, beaming towards Raleigh and Chuck. Raleigh looked like he was about to argue, but Chuck slung an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Suuure, Becket and I'll be fine. We'll keep an eye on the little guy, too.” He gestured to Newt, who immediately denied being the 'little guy' and launched into a rant on how splitting up was going to get them killed, and hadn't they ever watched Scooby Doo? This only earned him a laugh from Chuck, before Aleksis nodded and strolled into the house with Tendo close behind.

 

“I'll protect the lot of you. Not scared of dust and spiders, I hope.” Chuck mused, before strutting right through the front door. Raleigh and Newt stuck close.

 

It was almost.. anti-climactic. Newt and Raleigh both swept their flashlights from one side of the room to the other; it was a foyer, sparsely decorated with a dusty looking table and an overturned vase that might have had plants in it at some point. There was dust and litter all over the place; candy wrappers, empty cigarette packs, articles of clothing. Obviously people had been in and out of the place more than once – why wasn't there graffiti everywhere?

 

Chuck seemed to notice the oddity too – he let out a low whistle. “Can't believe this place's paint cherry ain't been popped. We'll have to fix that.” He mused, but didn't move to do anything; he ventured further into the house, leading them into a hallway that lead upstairs. Without a word he started to ascend, and Newt and Raleigh wordlessly followed, clutching their flashlights.

 

“Hah, anyone else feel a chill?” Newt asked, voice higher than usual; he had a vice-like grip on one of Raleigh's arms, but the taller boy didn't even seem to notice.

 

Chuck shrugged. “Old house. Bound to be some drafts.” He didn't seem worried at all, but Newt was on edge. They traipsed through yet another hallway, keeping close despite the 'obvious' lack of danger.

 

Just then, there was a sound like something being knocked over from somewhere else on the second floor. “Did you hear that?”Raleigh asked, craning his neck to look around. There didn't seem to be anything – _anyone_ – up there with them.

 

Chuck sighed. “It's probably the other guys, Becket, calm down.” He groused, just as a door down the hall slammed shut. They all three jumped, and Chuck let out a decidedly nervous sounding laugh. “Quit fuckin' with us!” He yelled, leaning slightly away from the door he'd been about to go through.

 

There was a faint answer from somewhere on the first floor, obviously Aleksis's voice.

 

The three of them shared a look, the hairs on the back of their necks standing up just before all hell broke loose.

 

It was surreal; there was complete silence throughout the house until suddenly, every door on the second floor flew open, closed, and open again. The noise was loud enough to send them running towards the stairs, right as the sound of pure panic came from the direction of Aleksis's voice. They were all in such a hurry that they weren't keeping track of each other, so neither Chuck nor Raleigh noticed when Newt tripped over a loose floorboard and went sprawling into one of the rooms, the door slamming shut behind him.


	2. He stumbled into faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity killed the cat. Or, in this case, mildly deterred it for all of five seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Because of what I have planned, I should warn you guys that there might be some historical inaccuracies up ahead. I'm doing as much research as I can so that there shouldn't be too many obvious errors, but I'm only human, and some things will have to be... altered a little to fit in with the story. Just keep in mind, it's fiction -- if something sounds ridiculous, it's because I sat here for two hours and never figured out a good solution. Also, apologies if anyone is out of character -- I've never written fanfiction before that wasn't.. blatantly ooc (the last fanfic I wrote, I was like 11 and it was bad, really bad) so hopefully anything I mess up will just gradually get better. Also, expect the chapters to get a little bit longer. I was really really tired when I wrote this (I just recently have been awake for more than 5 consecutive hours since having dental surgery) so if there are any errors I really apologize, just point them out and I'll fix them! I don't have a beta to run this through, so if anyone wants to volunteer that would be cool as heck. Chapter title from Blue Lips by Regina Spektor.

“Nothing is wrong and I am completely fine, there is absolutely nothing going on right now. I'm safe this is just an empty house, ghosts aren't real, I am one hundred and twelve percent okay.” Newt was still on the floor where he'd fallen, though he'd quickly moved to scramble into a sitting position and covered his eyes. Where had Raleigh and Chuck gone? Did they really just leave him there? What a couple of jerks. He was gonna get back at them later. ...If he lived.

 

He let himself calm after a few tense seconds, carefully peeling his fingers away from his eyes one by one with a heavy sense of trepidation. To his relief, there didn't seem to be anything in the room with him...

 

It had probably been a pretty sweet space at some point; there was a tattered looking four-poster on the other side of the room, an ornate dresser and desk taking up opposite walls. There were long-faded posters curling off of the wall, though whatever had been on them was no longer discernible. It was dusty as the rest of the house, a fact made visible only by the pale moonlight streaming in through the gap in the window curtains. Newt paused for only a moment, watching dust drift lazily through the shaft of light as he cautiously traipsed towards the window.

 

The view outside was what had drawn him; there was a back yard, something not obvious from the front. It was overgrown, though there were the makings of a once-kept lawn. Stone benches circled a large fountain, and stones hinted at the presence of flower beds. Newt wondered, briefly, just how rich this place's occupants had been, and who they even were. He reached out, fingers almost making contact with the freezing glass, before the room dropped in temperature. Condensation poured from between his lips, and a voice suddenly struck out harsh against the silence.

 

“I don't know what you're doing here, but you need to leave.”

 

Newt jumped, violently knocking an elbow against the windowsill in his haste to turn around. He cursed, grabbing it and hopping in place for a brief moment. “Ow! Don't just sneak up on a guy like that! You could've...” Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips. The figure across the room from him seemed... off. It took Newt a full three seconds to realize he could see _through_ him. He yelped, completely missing the shocked look on the boy's face.

 

“You can see me?” He asked, his tone only barely losing the angry edge it'd held.

 

Newt froze up, nodding jerkily. “Am I... not... supposed to?” He asked, tone high and uncertain as he leaned back towards the corner. The Ghost, as Newt had mentally labeled him, seemed to deflate just a tiny bit.

 

“No one ever has before. What are you doing here? Checking out the 'haunted' house? Stealing things? Breaking things?” The ghost advanced towards Newt, who backed up until his shoulder blades hit solid wall.

 

“No! No I-- I, um, we were just--”

 

“Is this a _game_ to you? Breaking into houses that aren't yours and defiling them?” The ghost was barely a foot away from Newt now, livid and jabbing a wispy finger towards him. A mirror hanging on the opposite wall cracked, and it seemed to distract the ghost just long enough to take the edge off of his rage. “You people come in here and ruin everything. You take things, leave your trash here, and do... all kinds of indecent acts within the confines of these walls. It's like you have no _shame_.” He hissed, eyes darkening. “I was always told to respect things that didn't belong to me. But you.. all of you, you just waltz in and act like you own everything!” He seemed to be finished with his tirade, giving a great huff even though Newt was sure he probably didn't even need to breathe.

 

“Wow. You were British?” It probably wasn't the best thing to say. Newt clapped a hand over his mouth a second later. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, words just pop out of my mouth and--” The ghost let out a noise of exasperation.

 

“It's like you weren't even listening to me! Are you dense? Get. Out!” He pointed violently towards the door, and Newt edged towards it, around the specter, letting out an uncomfortable whine. “I'm going, I'm going! Consider me gone!” He said, holding his hands up defensively until he was even with the doorway. He reached behind him, turning the doorknob and bolting out of the room. But not before he caught the hollow, lonely looking expression that had settled onto the ghost's face.

 

* * *

 

 

It was two days later. Newt hadn't been able to keep his mind off of the house – or it's undead? Occupant – for more than a few hours at a time. Who was he? How long had he been there? Did he die there? He was awful young-looking. He couldn't have been much older than Newt. His clothes were old too.

 

Newt had done a brief Google search and surmised the ghost's fashion to synch up with the 1930s, or at least, somewhere around there. Had he been in that house since then?

 

The questions were literally driving him mad. He'd merely brushed off Raleigh and Tendo's questions about what had happened, insisting that he'd just tripped into a room and got distracted going through a closet. He didn't want to tell them he'd seen a ghost – it was pretty obvious he was the only one who could, and it'd be pretty embarrassing if he tried to show the ghost to them, only for them to not be able to see it. He'd probably be locked away in the loony bin.

 

After countless hours of indecisive questioning, he'd reached a single conclusion. He had to go back. He couldn't get the look he'd seen on the ghost's face out of his head. Nobody should be that lonely. And hey, if Newt could see the guy, then maybe he could.. help him pass on, or something stupid like that.

 

He wasn't even sure what he wanted to accomplish; for all he knew, walking back into that house could get him seriously injured, and there was no guarantee the ghost would even appear to him again. What if it was just a one-time thing? Planets just in alignment or something like that?

 

These were the questions that plagued him as he went through his morning routine on the third day; he stood dazedly in front of the mirror, toothbrush moving in lazy circles while he tried to recall whatever it was he'd been dreaming about the night before. But it was like grasping at water; the harder he tried, the less he could recall.

 

Giving up, he got dressed and set off to grab a package of pop-tarts from the kitchen on his way out the back door. It was too early for anyone else to be up; barely dawn. Soft gold was doing it's best to battle the looming sea of darkness out of the sky, bathing everything in an almost-light. Newt yawned as he clumsily unlocked his beaten-up truck and climbed into the front seat, having to grip hard onto the headrest to make it up that high.

 

The truck itself had been a joke of a birthday gift last year when he'd gotten his license; his uncle had laughed hard at the sight of his vertically challenged Nephew valiantly fighting his way into the driver's seat. But he'd done it, and he'd kept the truck ever since.

 

He took a few moments to finish his impromptu breakfast and steel himself. It was a 20 minute drive to the house; he lived near the outskirts, himself, so it wasn't as far as it was from Chuck's place. The drive was completely uneventful, and by the time he made it, the sun was well on it's way to taking over the sky. He lingered outside for several minutes, staring up at the sprawling house and wondering if he should just turn back.

 

He knew he wouldn't. He'd spent too much time thinking about the house and it's occupant to go back now. With that in mind, he followed the cracked stone walkway up to the front door, hesitating for a brief moment. He felt stupid, but he knocked on the door, waiting only a second or two before making an exasperated noise and pushing it open. It was dumb of him to even bother, but he figured it was better than just walking in.

 

He stepped through the foyer and into the great room, which he'd missed the other night. He kept walking until he was standing in the middle of a moth-eaten rug. “Hello?” He asked, looking around the room and taking in the detail of the crown-molding and faded wallpaper.

 

The silence stretched on, and Newt felt smaller and stupider the longer it went on. Just when he thought that, perhaps he was just crazy and had just hallucinated the ghost, he heard a cough.

 

“I thought I told you to leave.” Newt whipped around, blinking at the sight of the specter standing in the doorway.

 

“I did. But I came back.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. The ghost surveyed him briefly, eyes narrowing. “Why?” There was suspicion in his tone, and it caused Newt to hold his hands up in what he hoped was a placating manner.

 

“I uh-- I don't know. I couldn't quit thinking about...” He trailed off, unsure if he should really finish that statement. “You know what, it doesn't matter. My name is Newt.” He introduced himself, just barely managing to stop himself from raising his hand for a shake out of habit. The ghost was silent for a while, face unreadable.

 

“..I'm Hermann. Hermann Gottlieb.” He finally said, seeming to shift his weight slightly. Newt could feel the hair on his arms and neck raise, despite himself. It was odd, putting a name to something that wasn't exactly living, and yet, communicating with him.

 

There was an unbearably stuffy silence between them then, and it felt as if it was going to drag on forever. Newt huffed out a breath, pursing his lips together as he usually did when he was frustrated. “I'm just gonna say it. I'm curious. I was thinking about what you said, and... you're right. I mean, I probably can't really help much. You're pretty lucky this place hasn't been, like, smashed to the ground by the state yet.” He gestured uselessly to the room around him, and Hermann's mouth tightened into a thin line.

 

“Surely someone would have to give permission for that. Even if.. even if my family no longer lives here, the property has to belong to someone. That's why it's still standing.” His tone was guarded, and Newt's head spun with millions of possibilities surrounding this boy's life. So his family had stayed here after his death?

 

“How did you...” Newt paused, pursing his lips again and running his tongue over them in nervousness. “Do you –“ He was cut off, Hermann either fed up with his babbling or feeling pity for his obvious discomfort, and Newt wasn't sure which.

 

“I don't remember. I don't remember much of anything.” He said glumly, kicking fruitlessly at a crumpled piece of paper on the ground. It wobbled, but didn't move. “I remember a good portion of my life, but the last month or so is missing.” He didn't look at Newt, his eyes trained on a peeling portion of wallpaper.

 

Newt let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Maybe this was it.

 

“Maybe I can help you find out?” He offered, shoving his hands back into his pockets. Hermann turned on him, expression dark.

 

“How could you possibly help with that? I've no idea how long it's been, but surely long enough that you would never find anything out.” His voice was biting, but Newt had a feeling it wasn't meant for him.

 

“I... well, it's 2013, dude. So.. I mean, you'd be surprised. There's this thing called the internet, and you can basically find out anything you want if you look hard enough.” He babbled, despite the lost look on Hermann's face. Newt reached up to run a hand through his hair. “Right. So, uh. What year was it when you..?” His eyebrows rose up in question; he hoped he wasn't pushing too far. Hermann didn't look insulted, though, which was good.

 

“It was 1924. That is all I remember.” Hermann's voice was quiet now, and his face had gone thoughtful and drawn. “I remember being alive, and then nothing. And then a funeral. I was here for it. Most people think they want to be around for their own funerals. They're wrong.” His tone had gone back to that angry, upset one from the other night. He seemed to draw in on himself, fading just slightly.

 

Newt blinked once, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Hermann had been hanging out in this house for almost a century. “That sounds... terrible, dude. You've been here for almost 90 years. But maybe me coming here and seeing you was supposed to happen? Like, maybe I can help you or something.” he suggested, looking at Hermann hopefully.

 

The reaction wasn't what he'd been hoping for.

 

“How could you possibly 'help' me? Call in a priest and have me exorcised? Put me to rest? I'm not a restless spirit, boy, I'm a memory! One that's better off forgotten! Anyone who would care about my being here is long gone by now. I do not need you poking around here and making a nuisance of yourself.” Hermann's eyes had narrowed, and he was eying Newt like one might eye a particularly unpleasant visitor.

 

Newt was quick to hold his hands up in apology; something he noticed was quickly becoming a trend. He squashed his own irritation and sighed. “That's not what I meant! I meant I can... keep you company, or something. It can't be fun just being stuck here every day for so long, that's all I'm saying!” He tried to force some sincerity into his voice; okay, so Hermann didn't want to pass on. He'd have to keep that in mind.

 

Hermann seemed to deflate a little. “I don't need you to keep me company. You have your own life. Do not waste it spending time here.” He spoke carefully, backing out of the room and fading from view. Newt frowned, staring at the spot where Hermann had been.

 

It was then that he made another decision; he wasn't going to just leave Hermann alone. No one deserved that, dead or alive.

 

No, he was going to make a complete nuisance of himself, because, let's face it.

 

Being friends with a ghost? That was _cool_.

 

“Alright, then.. see you tomorrow?” He said into the empty room. He wasn't surprised when he didn't get a response. He merely shrugged, strolling towards the foyer and starting a mental list of what he would have to do to get on Hermann's good side.


	3. I followed your ashes into outer space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt is a determined brat with not-so-dumb ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guysss this chapter is so bad and I'm really sorry, it's taken me FOREVER to get this out and it wasn't even really worth it. I promise the next one will happen sooner and will be better than this one. I was very tired while working on this and I got stuck several times over the past couple of weeks. Hopefully that won't happen again! Title is from Stars by Grace Potter and The Nocturnals.

The next day, Newt didn't go straight to the house; instead, he found himself pulling up in front of Principal Pentecost's house. He cut the engine, leaned back in the driver's seat, and sighed. Mako was a great friend, but Pentecost scared the actual hell out of him. Bearing this in mind, he grabbed a sealed Tupperware container full of his dad's homemade chicken soup and shimmied out of the truck.

 

Holding onto the bowl, he rang the doorbell and waited on someone to answer; it wasn't a long wait before the intimidating form of Stacker Pentecost appeared in the threshold. “Mr. Geiszler.” He greeted, eyes moving to the bowl with what might have been approval. “You've come to see Mako, I presume?” He asked, moving out of the way so that Newt could enter the house. Newt nodded, trying not to make his nervousness obvious.

 

“Ah, um, yes sir. My dad told me I should bring her some of this,” he hefted the bowl up a little, “to make her feel better. Is she awake?” He ventured, keeping his tone pleasant despite his rigid posture. Pentecost merely laughed at him. “Relax, Geiszler. I'm not going to expel you over a home visit.” He said, though Newt knew for certain that there were many other things he could get expelled for if either of them thought about it too much.

 

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable chit-chat, Newt finally edged into Mako's room and shut the door behind him, crossing the room and setting the bowl on the table next to the bed. “Heeey, Mako! You feeling any better?” He asked, pulling a chair up and sitting; he didn't hesitate to prop his feet up on the edge of the mattress, though he kicked his shoes off first.

 

“Hello Newt. And yes, I am feeling much better today, thank you. Is that for me?” She asked, pointing to the soup with a curious look. Once Newt nodded, she grabbed it and pried the lid open, taking a deep whiff of it's contents. “Your father has been cooking again.” It wasn't a question, and Newt grinned.

 

“Yeah, he's been on this weird gluten-free kick lately, Illia and I have been avoiding him and ordering pizza.” He wrinkled his nose, but gestured to the soup anyways. “That stuff's good though, I taste-tested it for you. No need to thank me, man, I'd risk my life for a friend anytime.” His words were accompanied with the wave of a hand, and he had to hold back a grin when Mako laughed at him.

 

“Tell him I said thank you.” She said, though her grin faltered a little. “So, Newton. I was talking to Raleigh yesterday... He told me you all went to see a haunted house?” Her tone was serious, and her brows had furrowed. Newt shifted uneasily; he knew what was coming.

 

“Well, it was only _technically_ haunted, I mean, it was more abandoned than haunted, nothing really happened, um, it was Alexis's idea and you know how that guy is when he wants to do something, he's--” 

 

“Newt, you don't have to lie to me. Raleigh already told me what happened. Are you okay?” She cocked her head, and Newt wondered, not for the first time, if Raleigh and Tendo didn't believe his story.

 

“Yeah! Never been better. Though, say, Mako. Hypothetically, of course, what would you say if I told you I spoke to a ghost?” He asked, trying to keep his tone innocent. Her gaze on him turned skeptical. “Well, Newt, hypothetically, I would tell you to be careful. Not all ghosts are just spirits. There are darker things out there. You must look out for yourself. That is what I think.” She said, plucking at a piece of lint on her blanket.

 

Newt deliberated on this, nodding slowly. “Right... well, thanks. I'll be careful.” He shot her a winning smile, and it was returned with a smaller one. “Enjoy your soup. I'll come see you later!” He said, pushing out of the chair and heading towards the door.

 

“Okay. Oh, Newt?” Newt turned around, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?” He asked, blinking. She pursed her lips for a moment, before speaking. “If you need help, or anything, you can let me know. I will be happy to do what I can.” Her expression was soft, and it caught Newt off-guard for a moment, before he grinned.

 

“Of course! Get better, alright?” He asked, earning him a smile before he disappeared out of the room.

 

 

 

It was a few hours later when he was ready to head back to the house – Hermann's house?

 

He slammed the tailgate on his truck closed and surveyed the equipment he'd packed. He'd borrowed his uncle's push-broom, as well as a box of trash bags and an arsenal of cleaning supplies. He figured an easy way to get on Hermann's good side was to try and fix up the house a little bit. That's what he'd been mostly upset over, right? Right.

 

Newt reassured himself on this during the drive out, this time pulling up around the side of the house so his truck couldn't be easily seen from the road. He didn't want cops coming up to investigate for squatters or something, not matter how unlikely it was.

 

He didn't bother knocking this time as he hauled all of his equipment into the house, kicking the door shut behind him once everything was in the foyer.

 

“What do you think you're doing?”

 

Hermann's timing was incredible, and Newt took a moment to marvel at it before answering. “What does it look like I'm doing? I'm gonna clean up. You seemed really upset about it last time we talked, so I figured, 'why not?'” He gestured to the supplies, not bothering to keep the smile off of his face.

 

Hermann didn't seem quite as pleased as Newton had been hoping. “Why not? I'll tell you why not. Because it doesn't make a difference.” He sniffed, turning his nose up just a fraction. “No matter what you do, some entitled group of heathens or other will come right back through here and destroy it just as they always have.” He crossed his arms, and Newt found himself fighting back a grin at the absolute bitch-face that made up the ghost's expression.

 

“Yeah, yeah, your faith in me is absolutely astounding, Herms. I'll prove you wrong. And then you'll owe me, like, fifty ghost-dollars or something.” He said, sending Hermann into a spluttering fit.

 

“Herms? What kind of ridiculous brand of nick-name--” He cut himself off and curled his lip, glowering at Newt. “Do what you want. I obviously can't stop you. You're a proper fool.” He harrumphed, before walking right through a wall and disappearing from sight.

 

Newt shrugged, before setting about cleaning the first floor, the sounds of his terrible singing voice reverberating off of the walls for hours to come.

 

It was a long while later when Newt finally forced himself to take a break, drinking deeply from a water bottle he'd retrieved from the truck earlier that morning. Hermann was lingering at the edge of the room, surveying his progress with an unreadable expression. “I admire your tenacity. I'll give you that.” He mused, begrudging acceptance in his voice. Newt heaved a breath, grinning at him. He'd tackled the living room, foyer, dining room, and two other rooms that may have been for entertainment; Newt wasn't sure. The house hardly looked like new, but it was certainly better.

 

“Aww, just admit it. Just three little words, Hermann. 'Thank you, Newton. You're a gift upon my otherworldly person.'” He suggested, doing a terrible impression of Hermann's accent and waggling his eyebrows. He realized a little too late that he'd let his whole name slip.

 

Hermann scoffed. “That's ten words,  _Newton,_ ” Newt winced visibly _,_ “I would tell you not to get a big head, but sadly, it seems far too late for that.” He said dryly, wandering about the room to inspect it. “However, I suppose you deserve  _some_ form of praise... The house looks cleaner than it has in decades.” He pivoted in place for a moment, taking in the sight of the clean floors and dusted surfaces. The wallpaper was still peeling, and there were still cracks running along the walls and ceiling, but it definitely looked... better.

 

Newt grinned, hanging onto the push-broom he'd been using with one hand and leaning on it. “That's the spirit!” He said, though he could feel exhaustion creeping up on him; he'd been working for nearly five hours, now. He suppressed a yawn and looked around, before spotting a closet through the foyer. “Hey, if I leave my stuff in that closet over there, what d'you think are the chances of someone finding it?” He asked, pointing to where he saw the door. 

 

Hermann made a noise that suggested he was thinking, before he shrugged. “Nobody ever looks in the closets. It should be fine. But, Newton... how far is this going to go? Surely you don't believe you can restore this entire house yourself.” 

 

Newton paused, almost like he was thinking about it, before he tilted his face towards the ceiling. “Maybe? You don't know what I'm capable of, Herms. The more you doubt me, the more driven I am to prove you wrong. I'll get the whole house done, dude. Just you watch.” He finally dropped his gaze back to Hermann, pointing a finger at him. Hermann's face was littered with disbelief, but Newton ignored it; Hermann was seriously underestimating him.

 

“I'll show you! But I gotta head out for now. I'll catch you later.” He said as he shuffled all of his supplies into the foyer closet. He made sure he hadn't missed anything, before turning. “Gonna say bye this.... time?” But Hermann was already gone. Newt huffed out a breath, before leaving the house.

 

He'd show him.

 

 

It was almost two weeks later, and Newt had managed to clean the entire first floor of the house, as well as part of the second. He was seated on an old blanket he'd found in one of the closets, flipping through tracks on his iPod. “Today we're gonna have a lesson in culture, Hermann. Prepare yourself for some absolutely badass tunes.” He ignored Hermann's derisive snort, and his mumbling about how he'd heard 'quite enough “badass tunes” coming from passing vehicles'. 

 

Newt just rolled his eyes, hooking a portable speaker to his iPod once he'd found what he was looking for.  _Of Wolf and Man_ by Metallica blared mercilessly from the device, and Hermann's noise of utter outrage was the only warning there was before he disappeared completely from view. Newt quickly hit the pause button to find something else – okay, so maybe that hadn't been the best first choice. He glanced around before trying another. Godzilla by Blue Oyster Cult? Hermann still hadn't re-appeared. “Damn, and I really like that one..” Newt muttered, idly flipping through his playlist for better options.

 

He wondered if he even had anything that  _wouldn't_ send Hermann scurrying away, but then his eyes fell on one of the newly-added tracks, and he glanced up to where he'd last seen Hermann and selected it.  _Stars_ by Grace Potter and The Nocturnals started playing, and there was a definite change in the air. It wasn't Newt's usual style – he'd only ever even heard it because Mako had played it on his stereo for almost an hour straight the month before.

 

Hermann's return was almost cautious, and he was giving Newt's iPod a skeptical look. “It's... not bad.” He relented, though his brows furrowed. “How does that.. what is it? How does it work?” He asked, gesturing to Newt's iPod. Newt glanced at it, then at Hermann, and let out a long sigh. 

 

“That's complicated. But... wait, were batteries a thing when you were alive?” Newt asked, leaning back and bracing his palms against the floor. When Hermann nodded, he continued. “Well, Most things are powered by small batteries now. Probably not the same kind that were around in your time. But they basically convert chemical energy to electrical energy and it's badass.” He held up the iPod, which had gone silent, and used his finger to scroll through the list of music. “There's music stored on here in the form of data, and there are touch-sensors under the screen that let you control stuff with your fingers.” He continued, though he stopped touching the screen to gauge Hermann’s reaction.

 

“Incredible..” Herman muttered, lowering slightly to peer at the screen. “And to think, at one point, everyone was getting excited over household radios.” He was taking this oddly well, Newt thought. But he didn't comment on that. 

  
“Hey, household radios are still cool. Like, nobody uses them much anymore, but I've got this really old CD player with a portable radio, annnddd you don't know what a CD is.” He flopped backwards, letting out a frustrated noise. “It'd take a lifetime to explain to you how far technology has come.” He whined dramatically, giving Hermann a pitiful look. Hermann only rolled his eyes. “Your lifetime, or mine?” He asked, though any bitterness Newt may have expected was absent.

 

“Heyyy that's a terrible joke. But it seems like they're coming out with something new every single year. Maybe one day they'll have flying cars and stuff. And then I'll just pilot one to the moon – You know they did that? In 1969, two guys named Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin made it to the moon on a man-made spacecraft and planted the American flag on it.” Newt grinned at the appalled look on Hermann's face, resting his arms under the back of his head.

 

“I can't decide if you're joking or not.” He muttered, shaking his head. “I'm not!” Newt insisted, raising his eyebrows. “I swear. We've done it loads of times since, but a lot of people think the first moon landing was fake. A conspiracy, or whatever.” He waved a hand through the air, yawning.

 

“Can't say I blame them. I hardly believe it myself.” Hermann mused, staring across the room. “Learning things like this makes me happy to still be around.” He admitted, glancing down at Newt, who grinned huge. 

 

“Finally! I thought I'd never see a smile on your face. You're a total nerd. I should've known. I bet all those posters in your room were all about space and math and stuff.” Newt would've reached out and poked Hermann, but he knew from previous experience that it wouldn't work. Either way, Hermann sighed. “Aeronautics, actually. I don't know if they're still around, but there was an organization known as NACA that was doing a lot of research on aviation. I was... fascinated, as a child. I wanted to be a pilot.” 

 

Newt was staring at him, more or less seeming to be lost in thought. “NACA... I think.. I think that's what NASA used to be. Before they started focusing on space-flight. They're the ones who sent those two guys to the moon!” He suddenly seemed quite excited, sitting up and then realizing he didn't have wi-fi inside the house. “Shit. I'm gonna have to go. I have to go research some stuff. But I'll be back later!” He promised, getting up and hastily folding the blanket into a corner. Hermann seemed a little put-off, but actually said good-bye this time before dissipating into the next room.

 

Newt tossed out his own farewells before darting out of the house and into his truck; he had a lot of things to look up, now that he knew what kinds of things Hermann was interested in.

 

It didn't occur to him until much later that he could also use the internet to learn more about his ghostly friend...


	4. Come and Give Me Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt makes lots of discoveries and Hermann learns a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! First off, I want to apologize for how long this has taken -- as you guys may have noticed I'm not the fastest writer. I have a lot going on IRL most of the time and on top of that, writing is difficult. But not impossible! However, I'm fairly proud of this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! I would also like to note that every scene I write has importance; aside from fleshing things out, of course. So keep that in mind. ;) I would also like to warn that in this chapter, one of the characters is very drunk, and if that kind of thing is triggering for you, you might want to stop reading at ' "Where were you?' and continue again at 'She was beaming now'. The conversation in between isn't vital. There is no violence or swearing during said conversation. Enjoy! (Chapter Titles from New Soul by Yael Naim.)

“Newt! Hang on a second!” The voice of Tendo Choi cut across the school parking lot just as Newt was about to open the driver's-side door to his truck. He paused, turning to watch his friend book it across the lot towards him. “Hang on,” Tendo breathed once he made it over, leaning to brace his hands on his knees. “Jeez, brother, you shot out of Mrs. Hardin’s class like there was a tiger on your ass.” He grumbled, before seeming to collect himself and straightening. “Where're you going? You've been disappearing a lot lately.” There was a touch of concern in his voice, but it was almost completely smothered by curiosity.

 

Newt moved to lean against the door to his truck, playing with his keys and turning his gaze to the ground. “Oh. Uh, nothing, really. I mean, nowhere. Just, uh, projects, you know? For AP Chemistry. Very complicated stuff.” He didn't even notice he was practically flattening himself to the truck door. He could _hear_ Tendo's eyebrow raising; he was possibly the world's most terrible liar. He felt like he might drop through the ground when another pair of legs joined them. Newt's eyes flicked upwards briefly to take in the sight of Raleigh Beckett, and he sighed.

 

“Look, it's nothing, alright? I've just been busy!” He insisted, though now _both_ of their expressions were skeptical.

 

Raleigh drew himself up a little taller, peering down at Newt. “You've been actin' really weird ever since we went to check out that house. We barely see you any more. That's why... why don't you tell him, Tendo?” He turned his gaze to the guy in question, a conspiratory look on his face. Tendo rolled his eyes.

 

“Mr. Hansen is going out of town this weekend and Chuck's hosting a party. You're going. I don't care what kind of plans you have, cancel them. It's just one night. You can do that, right?” He asked, ducking down slightly to try and meet Newt's eyes.

 

Newt thought about it – if he didn't go, they were just going to keep persisting. Besides, a party sounded... fun. Especially if Chuck was throwing it. But what about after? He couldn't just show up, have fun, and then drop off of the grid again. He shook the thought away, deciding to worry about it later.

 

“Yeah. I'll go.” He said, plastering on a huge grin. Tendo and Raleigh both visibly relaxed. “Alright! We'll see you there, brother.” Tendo said cheerfully, scooting around to slide next to Newt and throw an arm over his shoulder. “Some socializing will do you some good! We're just trying to look out for you, okay?” He asked, quirking one eyebrow and throwing on his most charming expression, causing Newt to laugh.

 

“Alright, alright, fine! I get it. But I really do got stuff to do today! I'll catch you guys at the party.” Newt said, shrugging Tendo off and finally managing to make it into his truck. He threw a wave at Tendo and Raleigh, before pulling out of the parking lot and heading home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After arriving home, Newt deposited his keys on his dresser and picked his way through the war-zone that was his floor, before dropping unceremoniously into the chair at his desk. His father would laugh in his face if he knew his messy son was spending his free time cleaning up an old house.

 

Grinning at the thought, Newt pulled open a web browser to do some searches. He found himself journeying through scores of web-pages, reading up on things he knew Hermann was interested in. His searches ranged from astrological discoveries to engineering articles surrounding the workings and functionality of spaceships. It wasn't his usual reading material, but it was interesting enough for him to stay focused; apparently a little _too_ interesting, because the next time he checked the clock, nearly 4 hours had passed. He blinked and ran a hand over his face, yawning. He should probably sleep soon.

 

… Something occurred to him, though, and he opened a new tab, fingers pausing over the keyboard. Should he really be doing this? He shrugged the thought off; he was alone, in his room. He carefully typed out Hermann's full name, adding the year that he'd died as an afterthought and hitting the search button before he could reconsider. Hermann wasn't _there_ , he couldn't see Newt snooping for information on the internet.

 

Of course, it could never be that easy; the first two pages were full of people with Hermann's name, but most of them weren't real hits. The third page included a link to an obituary directory; probably a suggestion due to the fact that he'd included a year. He rolled his eyes before hitting the button to sign up for a 7 day free trial, clicking through the registration process before he was able to access the records he'd requested. There were almost 6 pages containing different variations of his search; Hermann Gottliebs, Hermann G's, and H Gottliebs.

 

Newt couldn't help feeling a little paranoid as he started narrowing down the search by location and year. This left him with only two results, though only one was truly in the right city. That was the one that Newt focused on. It contained the original obituary, as well as an exact date. Newt's breath caught in his throat; Hermann was the same age as him. He would have been 18 in less than a week.

 

_**Son of prominent citizen lost in local tragedy** _

_**Hermann Gottlieb, 17;** _ _Local resident Hermann Gottlieb, 17, son of wealthy citizens Lars Gottlieb and Marissa Gottlieb, was found deceased by gunshot wound inside his home on June 4_ _th_ _. It is assumed that Mr. Gottlieb was killed during a robbery, as the Gottlieb estate showed signs of search and struggle. A service was held at Green Parks Funeral, and burial took place in Foster Grove Cemetery. Mr. Gottlieb was born June 9_ _th_ _, 1906. Hermann Gottlieb was a promising student and will be missed dearly by the community. He is survived by his parents, Lars Gottlieb and Marissa Gottlieb, as well as three siblings, Dietrich Gottlieb, Karla Gottlieb, and Bastien Gottlieb._

 

Unbidden, goosebumps raised all over Newt's skin; he knew it was ridiculous – he was already well aware that Hermann was dead, but to see actual proof that he'd existed and wasn't just a figment of Newt's imagination... well, it was a strange mixture of relief and unease. He deliberated briefly, before printing the page out and stashing it in his desk drawer. He would take it to show Hermann tomorrow. Maybe it would help him remember something.

 

* * *

 

 

“...and the place they chose for it to land was a site called the Gale Crater, because there's been a lot of studies that point towards it potentially being habitable. Formerly or currently. But yeah, Curiosity is badass. It made it to another _planet_.” Newt finished his statement with a careful sip of his hot chocolate, the Styrofoam cup clutched between both hands. The weather was getting colder as Halloween drew near, and one of Newt's favorite parts of the season was hot chocolate.

 

Hermann was listening intently, seated in mid-air in a way that almost made Newt jealous. He'd been taking Newt's chatter in stride, a carefully subdued look of utter fascination worming it's way through the mask of his face every now and then.

 

“Humanity has certainly become ambitious.” He mused, studying his own hands while Newt went about setting his drink down. He had finished cleaning the first floor of the house a while back, and had started tearing down wallpaper the previous day. Half-dried paint was taking up most of the walls in the main room.

 

“Haven't we always been? The only thing giving us momentum right now is technology. It's just getting more advanced as time goes by.” Newt muttered, keeping his tone conversational. His mind was on the sheaf of papers trapped in the main pocket of his backpack not far away. The longer he thought about it, the less prepared he was to spring it on Hermann. Maybe it would be better to keep it to himself?

 

“...always been searching for new ways to make life easier.” Hermann had been talking, and Newt barely managed to tune in before he finished.

 

“Yeah.” He answered distractedly, earning him an exasperated look from Hermann. “You weren't even listening to me, were you Newton? The lights are on, but nobody's home.” He said dryly, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. “Is there something on your mind?” Hermann was obviously trying to keep the concern out of his voice, but he didn't quite manage it. Newt grinned.

 

“Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking. My friends are dragging me out to a party tomorrow night. I was just... wondering. Do you get lonely when I'm not here?” He asked, covering the sappiness of the question with an expertly executed eyebrow-wiggle. Hermann rolled his eyes so hard that Newt couldn't help but feel impressed.

 

“ _Please_ , don't flatter yourself. I was alone for decades, I can certainly handle a few days without you.” The look Hermann was giving Newt was so dry that he carefully took another sip of his chocolate in some attempt to distract himself.

 

“Yeah, well,” Newt offered lamely, holding the cup for only a moment before putting it down. “It's not just gonna be tomorrow, you know? They've been questioning me! I can't keep hanging around here all the time,” He paused himself when a brief flash of something unpleasant (was that loneliness?) crossed Hermann's face, and he plowed on bravely to try and get the rest of his thoughts out, “but I was thinking! Um, is it possible for you to leave the house?” He tilted his head, the imploring look he knew he was sporting giving Hermann pause.

 

“Newton...” The ghost was obviously searching for the right words, “If I could leave, I would have been gone a long time ago. Something is keeping me here.” He heaved a sigh, though it was mostly for theatrics, as he didn't actually have to breathe or anything. Newt pursed his lips in thought. “Well... I've seen some stuff on the internet,” where he totally wasn't looking up information on ghosts, nope, “and maybe you're tied to an object or something? Some of us in the living world think that's how it works. If you were tied to something, any idea what it'd be?” Newt asked curiously, eyebrows raising.

 

For a moment, Hermann looked ready to blow him off, but he contained himself and put actual thought into the question. “In my room,” He began, words slow, “there's a ring in the top dresser drawer, wedged into the back left corner folded inside of a handkerchief. It used to be my grandfather's, he gave it to me on my 14th  birthday just before he died. It's very important to me.” He put a lot of stress on the last statement, eyes dangerous.

 

Newt nodded carefully. “Can I..?” The question hung in the air, before Hermann finally gave him a silent nod. Newt pushed himself from the ground, moving out of the main room and up the stairs. His feet eventually carried him into the room he'd first met Hermann in, still in exactly the state it'd been the last time he'd seen it.

 

It only took him a moment to cross the room and open the top drawer of the dresser, where he began pawing through the dust and moth-eaten sweaters (Jesus there were _tons_ of them). After a moment, he found the handkerchief and carefully shook it's contents into his open palm. Sure enough, a weighted object fell against his skin. He set the cloth back in the drawer and closed it, examining the ring. It was heavy, with a thick silver band and a large green stone that Newt was quickly able to identify as Moldavite.

 

“I never could bring myself to wear it.” Newt nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to find Hermann barely half a foot away from him. “It just didn't feel right, you know?” He asked, eyes focused on the ring while Newt proceeded to have a small heart attack.

 

“Don't sneak up on me like that, dude, or I'll be joining you in the afterlife.” He huffed, forcing his heart-rate to calm as he studied the ring. “I'm gonna take this outside, see if you can follow me out.” He said, talking over and thusly ignoring Hermann's mutter of, ' _Oh please, Newton, you're hardly that delicate'._

 

The trip to the front door was silent, and Newt glanced back at Hermann before opening it and passing through. Once he was out near his truck, he turned to observe Hermann. The ghost was lingering in the doorway, giving the front walk a decidedly cautious look. “This isn't going to work,” He warned, grimacing, “I always get pulled back into the house and it's not pleasant.” Even as he said this, he was carefully stepping over the threshold, standing slightly hunched inwards on the front porch. When nothing happened, he straightened a little and continued walking, eventually joining Newt out by the truck.

 

“I can't believe it. This is impossible.” Hermann muttered, staring back at the house with all the air of a baby bird who'd left the nest before it was ready. Newt was grinning. “Impossible? Hardly! This is so cool! Think of all the things I can show you!” He didn't even bother trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, but he did reign himself in for a moment. “That is, um, if you _want_. Do you want to come with me, Hermann?” There was no stifling the hope in his eyes, and Hermann must have realized that, because he nodded, albeit hesitantly.

 

The ghost drew himself up, his face a strange mix of resigned amusement. “Go ahead, Newton. Show me the wonders of the modern world.”

 

This would turn out to be a dangerously unreserved request.

 

* * *

 

 

Eight o' clock PM found both of them seated in Newt's car, parked in a drive-in movie lot that'd been difficult to locate; well off the beaten path. The boy in question was working his way through his second bag of popcorn, amused noises leaving him every time Hermann reacted to something on-screen. “Impossible! There's no way for them to simulate an atmosphere and setting in outer space. Physics do not work that way!” This was at least the third time Hermann'd said that, and finally, Newt had to laugh.

 

“Man, I'd explain it to you, but I don't even know if I can. It's all digital! It's like.. like.. aaah, shit. Imagine, like, if you took a photo of someone, and after that you had someone paint in the background they wanted. It's.. kind of like that. A little bit. That's the closest I can get.” It wasn't really close at all, but how could he explain the intricacies of digital media to someone who hadn't really seen it evolve? It would take hours! Hermann didn't seem all too satisfied with that answer, but he didn't pester Newt about it any further.

 

“Just enjoy it, Hermann, with the knowledge that it's all totally fake.” He quipped, finishing off the popcorn and leaning back in his seat while the movie came to a close. His eyes were drooping visibly, and he reached up to rub them. “Hey, Hermann?” He inquired, turning his gaze on the ghost in question. “Hmm?” Hermann hummed, still staring at the screen, though it'd dimmed to nothing moments ago.

 

“What's it like? Being a ghost, I mean. You can still watch movies, and talk to me, and... does it feel different?” Newt's voice was quiet, curiosity and something that wasn't quite fear clinging to his words. Any venom Hermann might have felt was immediately wiped out by the cautious green eyes that were now regarding him. He chose his words carefully.

 

“It.. I haven't been alive in a very long time, Newton. However, I can assure you... it is different. I can observe, like I was always able to. I can't feel or smell anything, and holding a form that you can see is taxing. I don't get physically tired, but I feel... weaker, if I stay for too long. Like I exist a little less, almost.” He didn't take his eyes off of Newt as he spoke, brows furrowing with the effort of explaining something that Newt could not possibly relate to.

 

“Where do you go when you're not here? Do you just turn invisible or are you gone somewhere else?” The questions were asked in the same tone as before, effectively disarming Hermann.

 

“I don't stay here. There is another... place, that I can go. There is nothing there, though. It is hardly as interesting. But it's almost like sleeping for someone like me.” He gave a weak smile, which was returned by Newt.

 

“...Alright, well, I should head home. Do you want me to take the ring back to your place or do you wanna come to my house?” The question felt so awkward, but Newt rolled with it. Hermann shrugged. “It really makes no difference. I would like to see where you live.” The way he said it was innocuous enough that Newt felt slightly less self-conscious, and he nodded quickly. “Alright. Let's go, then.” He yawned, starting up the truck and turning out of the parking lot just as Hermann faded out of existence.

 

* * *

 

 

It was almost 20 minutes later when Newt parked his truck at the curb, cutting the engine and getting out to cross the yard. He'd barely made it in the door before his mother practically accosted him. “Where were you? I thought you'd been out with your friends, but Tendo and Raleigh came by earlier asking where you were. And they said they haven't seen you at all lately! I came by today just to see you! And you weren't even here.” Newt wrinkled his nose as the stench of alcohol blasted him in the face.

 

“I'm, uh, sorry? You didn't call or anything.” He said, shrugging coolly. His father was standing in the doorway to the living room looking extremely apologetic, making ridiculous hand signals that Newt could only guess meant something along the lines of 'I tried to stop her but you know how she is'.

 

His mother sniffed, giving him one of the most pathetic frowns he'd ever seen. “I shouldn't have to call! You never stayed out all the time before! Do we need to have the talk? Are you meeting up with girls? Are you into hard drugs? Did they force you? Did they take your kidneys? You still have.. oh, one, two... two kidneys is right, right?” She was touching his face now, as if making sure he was physically in one piece.

 

It took herculean effort for him not to roll his eyes. “We don't need to talk, I'm not meeting up with girls, I'm not doing drugs, and I still have both kidneys. Can you let go of me now?” He suppressed a groan, instead allowing out a relieved sigh once she stepped away from him.

 

“I'm in town for the weekend.” She informed him, gently patting his face once she was sure he was okay. “Your father is letting me stay here so I can spend time with you!” She was beaming now, and Newt couldn't help grinning at her a little. Overbearing and weird as she was, he liked it when she visited. She always shared interesting stories with him and let him bounce theories and ideas off of her. .. When she wasn't smashed, anyways. He was acutely grateful, in the back of his mind, that Hermann wasn't actually present to see this spectacle.

 

“That's--” He cut himself off with a huge yawn, “Great. But can I go to sleep? I'm really tired. I'll talk to you in the morning?” He offered, giving her a hug – she was still taller than him, dammit – and skirting around the table once he was released. He gave his dad a stern look as he passed, hoping to convey something along the lines of why-didn't-you-call-me, but it was short lived. He couldn't even be mad. His mother was a force of nature all her own.

 

Once he made it into his room, he shut the door with a relieved sigh, sagging against it. “Jeez.” He mumbled, jerking up to attention at the sound of an amused snort. “Is she always like that?” Hermann asked, materializing in front of him.

 

“I thought you couldn't observe while you were away.” Newt responded smoothly – or, tried to. His voice was wavering a little.

 

“I can still hear things. Even if I can't see them.” He almost looked smug about that, Newt noticed.

 

“Yeah, she's.. overwhelming. Usually a lot calmer. But I'm pretty sure she was probably having alcohol with dad before I got here.” He shrugged nonchalantly, almost missing the confused look on Hermann's face.

 

“Isn't that illegal? Especially to have it in your own house. That's taking a very big risk.” He said, pursing his lips. Newt stared blankly at him, before the words caught up with him and he laughed.

 

“Aaah that's right, I forgot. Alcohol is totally legal now. Like, you have to be 21 to drink it, but it's freely available. The prohibition act was overturned a while ago. Like, 1930's a while ago.” He said, flopping face-first down on the bed. “I'm beat, though, we'll have to have history lessons later.” He yawned, reaching blindly towards the lamp on his bedside table to turn it off. He barely managed to kick his boots off, mumbling a 'night, Herm' before the dark comfort of sleep crept into his mind.

 

He could have sworn he heard a 'goodnight, Newton' in return, but it may have been his imagination.


End file.
